"Auto Wreck" by Karl Shapiro

Logline "Auto Wreck" is the perfect pandemic poem in that it questions the nature of Nature and its relationship to humanity, particularly addressing: Why do bad things happen to good people? "Auto Wreck" by Karl Shapiro Its quick soft silver bell beating, beating, And down the dark one ruby flare Pulsing out red light like an artery, The ambulance at top speed floating down Past beacons and illuminated clocks Wings in a heavy curve, dips down, And brakes speed, entering the crowd. The doors leap open, emptying light; Stretchers are laid out, the mangled lifted And stowed into the little hospital. Then the bell, breaking the hush, tolls once. And the ambulance with its terrible cargo Rocking, slightly rocking, moves away, As the doors, an afterthought, are closed. We are deranged, walking among the cops Who sweep glass and are large and composed. One is still making notes under the light. One with a bucket douches ponds of blood Into the street and gutter. One hangs lanterns on the wrecks that cling, Empty husks of locusts, to iron poles. Our throats were tight as tourniquets, Our feet were bound with splints, but now, Like convalescents intimate and gauche, We speak through sickly smiles and warn With the stubborn saw of common sense, The grim joke and the banal resolution. The traffic moves around with care, But we remain, touching a wound That opens to our richest horror. Already old, the question Who shall die? Becomes unspoken Who is innocent? For death in war is done by hands; Suicide has cause and stillbirth, logic; And cancer, simple as a flower, blooms. But this invites the occult mind, Cancels our physics with a sneer, And spatters all we knew of denouement Across the expedient and wicked stones. Why This Poem I’ve been thinking a lot about this poem lately, though I first read it in graduate school in 1974 when I was an eager young poetry student of the author, Karl Shapiro. Back then, I appreciated the fine craftsmanship, the word choices, the imagery. For years, I taught this poem to students so they could learn the intricacies of the craft and the wallop of the last stanza as the theme is punched home. Despite my awe at the writing, the words delighted my mind but never lodged in my heart. That has changed. go back to the originals. But I refused. (Yes, I was not very smart. There was no principle, nothing to be gained. Still…) When the meeting started, Karl immediately spoke up: “I think these poems are wonderfully crafter, written with passion and depth.” He said a few other things, concluding with, “I like them just as they are.” When other faculty were asked to speak, a couple others echoed Karl. The husband and wife said nothing. Karl definitely saved me from myself that day. When my own book of poetry was published two years later, Karl wrote a lovely blurb for the jacket that I still cherish. Dear Poetry Enthusiasts. My goal for this blog isn't just to pontificate, but to encourage some conversation about the works. Please offer your comments, questions, observations, alternate interpretations, etc. Line-by-Line Musings Auto Wreck (title) At first glance, the title is straightforward, almost journalistically detached in telling us that the poem is about a crashed car. Simple. The contrast of the simplicity of the title—telling us this is such a common occurrence that it requires no eloquence—to the devastation it causes creates a subtle conflict and anticipation.